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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26213674">Emails before Owls</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesbyNessie/pseuds/AngryCampfire'>AngryCampfire (StoriesbyNessie)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>"Scared Potter?"--30 days of Drarry Prompts August 2020 [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Auror Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy &amp; Ron Weasley Friendship, Draco Malfoy has a computer, Draco has cats, Dramatic Draco Malfoy, Emails, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fun, Happy Ending, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Not to be taken seriously, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Silly, muggle devices in the wizarding world</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:02:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26213674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesbyNessie/pseuds/AngryCampfire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry gifts Draco a computer so they could send each other emails while he’s away on a month-long mission with the Aurors over Christmas and New Year’s. </p><p>It’s a stupid idea, but according to Harry and Weasley, emails are better than sending owls. They are excited; Draco’s not.</p><p>And he’s most definitely not excited to spend Christmas all alone.</p><p>Day 27-30 of my 30 days of Drarry project merged into a multi-chapter. Prompt: Emails</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>"Scared Potter?"--30 days of Drarry Prompts August 2020 [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858288</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Drarry26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murder_Kitten/gifts">Murder_Kitten</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A/N: Drarry month is coming to an end and it's been an absolute blast. I've really enjoyed coming up with fun little prompts for (almost) all the days of August (I had an awful cold in the middle of it). </p><p>I decided to leave the Drarry month with a shorter multi-chapter instead of doing individual works as my finishing piece. This is a fun little story I came up with around a prompt involving Harry and Draco writing emails to each other. </p><p>I hope you will enjoy it. &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Updated as of November 3rd 2020 with brand new art made by the talented KoraKwidditch &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>Chapter One</strong> </span>
</p><p>“We should email each other!” Harry said, with all the energy and excitement of a first-year on a sugar quill. He gestured eagerly to the brilliant Muggle device in front of them that had Draco frowning. <em>What the hell was that bloody thing called again?</em></p><p> </p><p>"Oh yeah, you should," Weasley said, nodding just as eagerly. "Hermione taught me how to use the computer; it's honestly great. We write to each other basically daily now. It's…uh…it's great," he added, the tips of his ears going slightly red.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Hermione emails him at work," Harry whispered in Draco's ear, holding back a laugh. "Several times a day."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Anyway," Weasley continued, "You press down on these keys here, and letters show at the screen. Better than any owl, and a hell of a lot faster. It's not so bad. You'll get the hang of it, I'm sure…"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Splendid," Draco said, pursing his lips. He wasn't thrilled —at all—and only about a nanosecond away from crossing his arms defiantly over his chest or flip a table, whatever came first.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>For two particular reasons:</p><p> </p><p>One: Draco didn't like the Muggle device Weasley so all-importantly had referred to as a <em>computer </em>that Potter had brought to his apartment along with the stupid tall ginger Draco secretly wanted to smack in the head. <em>Hard.</em></p><p> </p><p>Two: Potter had only brought said Muggle device to Draco’s apartment because he was going away on a month-long mission with the Aurors, leaving Draco sad and alone. He didn’t want to be sad and alone. And worst of all: Potter would be away over Christmas. And fucking New Year’s. Which if you asked Draco, was just bloody rude. Draco’s inner image of waking up together on Christmas Day was now forever ruined, and he refused to admit that he was disappointed. At least he refused to admit it out loud.</p><p> </p><p>The computer was Harry's pre-Christmas gift to Draco, and he was clearly very pleased. His emerald eyes twinkled like a child's as he showed Draco the desktop with all the little icons, saying over Draco's head that he wanted to set up the email address right away. He said it to <em>fucking </em>Weasley, and not to Draco. Which made Draco want to scream, but he kept shut as Harry opened some kind of window on the screen. He sat to Draco's right, close, half next to him, half behind him. The warmth of Harry made Draco feel all soft, despite him being a bit angry with him. Weasley was to Draco's left, keeping a little distance, but the distance could never be long enough for Draco's liking.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They set up an email address together, without Draco being in a position to object. Harry and Weasley did everything while he just sat between them trying to not lose his goddamn mind. He felt one of his cats cuddle against his leg and he wished Weasley would just go home to his bloody girlfriend so he and Harry and the cats could have some very much needed alone time together.</p><p> </p><p>Draco had been missing Potter all day while he was away at work and he hadn’t expected him to show up at Draco’s doorstep with Weasley at all. It was infuriating, and Draco would need a whole bottle of wine after this to wind down.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>If Weasley would ever go home.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“So, what do you want to call your email address?” Harry asked, pushing up his round spectacles on his nose.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>How about shut-the-hell-up-at-I-may-or-may-not-sleep-with-you-ever-again-dot-com?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Draco shrugged, fighting the urge to glare. Weasley said something stupid to Harry—again, they talked over Draco’s head— and laughed.</p><p> </p><p>Harry already had an email account too, because of course, he had. He logged in to show Draco how it worked before they started on creating his account. Draco frowned at the name of the address: lightningbolt80(a)mail(dot)com.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Could it get any sillier?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“See, you will have an address like this too,” Harry said brightly, touching the computer screen with his index finger. It was going to leave a dirty print that Draco would have to spell away later.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Bastard.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Fun," Draco said sarcastically, forcing the corners of his mouth to twist upwards into the tiniest of smiles. Harry didn't listen; he was already opening up another tab in the browser with the help of another little device to Draco's right. Draco had his right hand resting on the table, and Harry accidentally brushed his fingers against Draco's as he moved what was apparently called a <em>computer mouse </em>and made a little arrow-thing on the screen move around. Draco had never seen anything like it, and he wasn't impressed.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The new tab his boyfriend had just opened was blank mostly. At the top of the screen, Draco read: new email.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Here's how it works," Harry continued. "I'll write something to Ron, and within seconds he'll get it in his inbox. Just like with an owl, but it doesn't take days. Watch."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Harry typed, pressing down the keys on the keyboard that all had a letter each on them. Draco watched with disinterest, although he couldn’t deny to himself that seeing the letters take form into words on the screen with the touch of the keys was a bit like magic. A Muggle kind of magic, he supposed.</p><p> </p><p>Harry wrote a silly <em>Hi Ron! </em>and pressed send. The computer made a tiny swoosh-noise and then Weasley leaned over Draco to log in to his account to show that Harry’s email was right there.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Impressive.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"And that's how it works!" Harry grinned. "Of course, I'll walk you through this more in-depth later…" He said the last part in a much lower voice, right into Draco's ear.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I can get Hermione to write a guide too,” Weasley said brightly. “She wrote me one; I’ve got it taped up over my desk…” he quieted abruptly when he saw Harry’s and Draco’s eyes. Potter might not, but Draco absolutely did judge him right now.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Yes, because I so would like a handy little beginner’s guide to Muggle computers by brilliant little Granger.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I think I can manage without,” Draco said tersely. He put a hand on Harry’s thigh beneath the table. Weasley said nothing in response and most likely pretended he didn’t see when Draco gave Harry a <em>we-need-to-talk</em>-look.</p><p> </p><p>Because talk they would. Once Weasley went home to his sad little flat, Draco sure as hell had several things to say to Potter.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Several things indeed.</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>Chapter Two</strong></span>
</p><p> </p><p>"You wanted to say what?" Harry asked breathlessly. His cheeks were flushed pink, and his raven-hair stood in every possible direction. He was still laying on top of Draco, their naked bodies connected in the warm bed.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Draco was pleasantly drunk, feeling like jelly all over. His body ached a bit from where Harry had touched him, and he couldn't quite grasp the question his boyfriend had just asked. It was all so great now, his worries and frowning face gone with the contents of the wine bottle he and Harry had shared before they ended up in this position. The apartment was quiet save for Midnight, Dante and Ozzy, but cats never made much noise anyway. At least not Draco's cats; they knew how to behave, he thought, stifling a yawn.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"To hell with it," Draco said to the ceiling. Harry chuckled lightly with his head resting on Draco's chest. Draco's nostrils were filled with the smell of the wizard's hair, and it was strange how his mood could shift so quickly. As soon as Weasley's annoying face had disappeared, Draco had relaxed, and then he and Harry had had an extremely good time.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Harry had made food, and Draco had opened the wine bottle. The computer was left on the table in the dining room, forgotten for the rest of the night. Hopefully for the rest of the weekend, but Draco knew he probably couldn't get away so easily. Harry would want Draco to learn the stupid computer before he went away on his Auror's mission the following Monday.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He had talked about it while he made them dinner, but Draco had only listened with half an ear.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you have to go?” He’d asked quietly once Harry had stopped talking.</p><p> </p><p>Harry had only blinked in reply at first, and Draco guessed that the last thing Harry said wasn’t about the mission, judging by the confused look on the man’s face. Eventually, he had found himself.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, yeah, sort of. Look, I'm sorry about missing the holidays, but we can always celebrate when I'm back, can't we?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Draco didn’t care much for Christmas or New Year’s, but the anxiety of being alone while everyone else celebrated with their loved ones was almost unbearable. His stomach churned with worry; would he be able to handle the holidays by himself?</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa and Lucius were travelling to the Malfoy vacation house in France. Draco supposed his mother would love if her darling son went with them, but Draco couldn't stand Lucius nowadays, so that was not an option. He remembered how he used to look up to Lucius so much, but not anymore. His father and their relationship belonged in the past, though Draco still had to play the part of the well-mannered, loving son whenever he visited them. He loved his mother, but she was still married to his father, so socialising with them was a challenge.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Draco’s relationship with Harry didn’t improve the already strained relationship he had with his parents either. Although Lucius and Narcissa never said anything, Draco knew they didn’t exactly approve. They would never have grand-children, and the Malfoy bloodline would die with Draco.</p><p> </p><p>He had glanced at Harry, who had stirred some strange concoction on the stove without answering the question. Draco had left it hanging in the air, and now when they were together in bed, he still hadn't answered it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>We can always celebrate when I’m back, can’t we?</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>Yes, but it’s still not the same thing, </em>Draco thought drunkenly. Salazar, he was so tired. Instead of worrying over being alone over the holidays, he had got himself—and Harry— drunk and indulged in filthy activities.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It was better than talking. Talking meant dealing with things that hurt or were too much or fixing problems, and Draco didn't like that. He especially didn't like it when there wasn't any solution to the problem. He supposed he could check in with either Nott, Parkinson or Zabini and see what they were up to over the holidays.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Maybe. Right now, all he wanted to do was to sleep.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Sleep, sleep and sleep.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Saturday morning rolled around and brought a bright sun that shone right on Draco’s face the minute he carefully opened his eyes. Both Draco and Harry had forgotten to pull the curtains last night, apparently, and the light did nothing to ease the headache he currently had. Draco groaned inwardly, lifting his head the tiniest bit from the pillow, only to have his head fall back onto the soft material again.</p><p> </p><p><em>Where was his wand, </em>Draco could use it right about now. Harry snored softly beside him, still in deep slumber. Draco gave him a look before turning his head to check the time. His antique clock stood on the nightstand and would have ticked horribly loud if Draco hadn't silenced the damn thing with a spell. Nine o'clock. Plenty of day ahead of them.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He blinked up at the ceiling, choosing between if he should stay in bed a little longer and hope the headache would go away, or go up, look for the hangover potion, take a shower and find something to eat?</p><p> </p><p>It hurt to think and decide things. Why couldn’t Harry be awake and decide for him?</p><p> </p><p><em>Curse red wine,</em> Draco thought, it always gave him such a brilliant headache the morning after. Especially when he, almost alone, had downed a whole bottle. It felt like he had consumed it almost alone at least, or perhaps, he was getting old. But he was still five years away from turning thirty, so no, no way. Draco sighed, closing his eyes. Maybe a bit more sleep couldn't hurt.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Two hours later, Draco woke up to the smell of fried eggs and coffee, and the first thing he saw was a Harry with wild, sleep-tousled hair. Harry was in a good mood, tossing the hangover potion to Draco as he went into the bedroom. Draco took the vial gratefully in hand; it was like Potter <em>knew </em>what he needed right in this very moment.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Well, of course, he knew. He was Harry. He always knew what Draco needed, even when Draco didn't even know it himself.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Good, you're awake," Harry said excitedly, flopping down heavily next to Draco on the bed. "I made you an email account. So now I have one, and you have one, and I thought we could practice emailing each other today." He was beaming with happiness. It was adorable and annoying at the same time.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Draco reluctantly sat up and began unscrewing the top of the vial slowly, pretending it was difficult to open when it really wasn't. He didn't answer right away. Harry watched, waiting patiently as Draco put the vial to his mouth and drank a good amount, feeling the power of the potion work its magic almost immediately. He almost felt sorry for Muggles who didn't have hangover potions as options the day after drinking too much wine, how awful their headaches must be. <em>Thank Merlin he wasn’t a Muggle. </em>He wouldn't be able to handle it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Not that he was ever going to admit such thing aloud. He was Draco Lucius Malfoy and liked to believe he had some pride. Admitting to ones weaknesses didn’t belong in such pride.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s how you’d like to spend our day together? Sending those digital letters back and forth?” Draco raised his eyebrows a little, looking at Harry. He fought to hold back a smirk, despite himself and the worry coursing through his veins. “Well, I suppose that’s one form of entertainment.”</p><p>He really didn’t want to learn the stupid bloody computer or how the emailing program worked. Learning that meant accepting that they just had two days together before he wouldn’t be able to see Harry for several weeks. Draco couldn’t have that.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I'd really like it if you could learn how everything works properly," Harry said, leaning close to kiss Draco on the nose. He took Draco's free hand, intertwining their fingers. "So you can tell me all about your day when I'll be far away, and I can tell you about mine. You know, going away is going to be incredibly boring. I'm gonna miss you."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Skip it," Draco said. "Owl in sick. Say you've got a rare case of stomach flu; in fact, I'm pretty sure I can give you one with a bit of magic…"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"No, thanks," Harry laughed. "I can't do that; I need to go. It's important, and it could give me a promotion too, I think. If everything goes well and I do a good job." He breathed out; Draco could tell he was nervous. Though he chose not to comment on it. Draco didn't know what to say; he just squeezed Harry's hand.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Anyway…" Harry continued. "Get dressed. I've made breakfast and then we're going to learn this computer-thing." He gave Draco another kiss before jumping off the bed. He was like an excited little toddler.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“For Merlin’s sake! We need Hermione. There’s no other choice.”</p><p> </p><p>Three hours later, Harry rubbed his temples, feeling frustrated. He had yelled, Draco had yelled, even Draco's three cats had had their fair share of opinions. Insults had been exchanged, and Draco had sent the computer mouse flying twice through the dining room with the help of his wand.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Draco turned out to be a very difficult and impatient student, and Harry scolded himself for not realising how it was going to be. Of course, he was, he was Draco and apparently all sorts of dramatic. It wasn't that he didn't understand; he was just unwilling, it seemed like. Very unwilling.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Harry was pretty fond of the computer. He had had his for about three months, and he and Ron had fun emailing each other. Hermione sent Harry emails too, but she wasn’t as fun as Ron. Ron sent funny pictures, completely in love with what the Internet had to offer. It was a whole world inside one machine.</p><p> </p><p>Harry had a faint memory that his cousin Dudley had had a computer, not that he was ever allowed near it unless the Dursley's weren't home and Harry, if he was lucky, could sneak into Dudley's room. It felt brilliant to have a computer of his own now when he was an adult, and he was so happy his best friends had one each as well. Harry had looked so much forward to initiate Draco into the world of computers, and he'd been fantasising about all the quirky love notes he would send. Draco would say he hated them, but Harry knew he'd secretly love them.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ron and Hermione sent each other silly things like that all the time, and Harry wanted to send them too. Now, when he was going away on a longer mission, he had seized his chance.</p><p> </p><p>Harry’s fantasies had been crushed the minute Draco got frustrated with him. It had taken ages to convince the man to sit down by the computer in the first place, and then he didn’t like when Harry wanted to go through every letter of the alphabet and where they were placed on the keyboard. He also didn’t want to practice how to turn the computer on and off or learn how to navigate the desktop. Not even when Harry told him he could get a picture taken with Harry’s camera of Midnight, Dante and Ozzy to use as a background on his computer made Draco excited to learn.</p><p> </p><p>He was just annoyed.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not eighty years old, Potter!" Draco snapped to him. "Just bloody show me how to send a stupid email already, and I'll send you one to make you happy, and then we can use our time together to something more enjoyable." Harry didn't have to look to know that Draco was rolling his eyes.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll show you,” Harry said through gritted teeth, “But it’s important to <em>understand </em>the computer first; otherwise you might do something wrong…"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Draco narrowed his eyes at that and threatened to put his fist up Harry's arse if he didn't shut up. Harry didn't want that, but he realised to get Draco to co-operate, he needed some sort of outside force.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He needed Hermione Granger. Harry knew Draco didn’t want Hermione’s help either, but he couldn’t snap at her like he could at Harry anymore and especially not with Ron present. So Harry pretended to go to the bathroom and sent Hermione a secret Patronus.</p><p> </p><p>He needed help.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: This story is finished, I'm editing it at the moment. Sorry that it took a while; I'm currently struggling with some health issues. Thank you for your patience. &lt;3</p><p>Also, special thank you to the person in the Drarry: Fanfiction and fanart group on Facebook who came up with Draco's email address!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Chapter Three</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From:</b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To:</b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>Well, I hope you’re happy</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Potter,</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>First off. The name of the email address. You bastard. </em> <em>I sure as hell can </em> <em>muggle better than you. I can muggle better than anyone, you’ll see. And then you’ll regret ever doubting me.</em></p><p> </p><p><em>Secondly, it’s been a week and I have still not forgiven you for dragging Granger (and Weasley) into my home, nor forgiven you for forcing me to suffer through Granger’s </em> <em>t<strike>orturing</strike></em> <em> tutoring (I never expected that woman to be fully so stubborn, but I highly suspect it is Weasley's fault. He's rubbing off on her, I bet) on this Muggle device. You are an idiot, and I am pretty sure I hate you. But, as much as I do hate you, I have to say, I think my screensaver on this muggle device is rather charming. So a thank you would be in order, I suppose. I’m not a monster. Not sure if you admired it enough before you left though (I think you should have done that, you prick), but my cats are looking absolutely beautiful—way better than you, in fact, Potter.</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>Also, I would have sent you an owl out of spite, but you are so infatuated with digital parchment nowadays so I suppose I </em> <b> <em>could</em> </b> <em> make an exception. I hope you are happy to see that I took an hour out of my incredibly busy day to type you this letter.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I hope the Auror’s mission is boring and that you cry yourself to sleep every night missing me terribly. I’ve been having a grand time without you.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>D.M</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>re: Well, I hope you're happy</b></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Hey my reluctant little computer owner,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I am so proud of you for sending me that email. Look at you, making progress! &lt;3 Lol, I knew the guide Hermione made for Ron would be useful for you too. And hey, I said I was sorry! Several times, actually. You didn’t complain either when I made it up to you after Hermione and Ron went home.In fact, I recall that you enjoyed it (don’t you remember that you threw yourself in my arms once you stopped shouting?), all three times. You’ve always enjoyed that thing that I can do with my tongue. ;-) ;-) ;-) See, Muggle Internet pays off, Draco! It’s fantastic, I’m telling you.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>But, I just wanted you to learn so we could talk to each other because I love you so much! I want to talk to you all the time, you know. I don’t want to wait for an owl for that.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Lol.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You’re so cute, do you know that?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>&lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Work’s okay, but I miss you!!! I’ve bought you another Christmas gift. Can’t wait to see you on January 1st.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It’s okay to miss me too, you know. ;-) Say hello to the cats from me.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Harry</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To:</b>hermione_granger79(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject:</b> <b>Potter’s mad</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Granger,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I am afraid Potter’s been on some strange potions. What the hell does ’lol’ and the following signs mean: &lt;3 ;-) ???</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Is it some form of code?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>D.M</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From:</b> hermione_granger79(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject:</b> <b> re: Potter’s mad</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dear Malfoy,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>LOL is a type of Muggle Internet slang Harry and Ron throw around all the time. They just learnt it if that helps, so Harry might mention it quite a lot. It’s annoying if you ask me ( and feel free to ignore it, that’s what I do) but it stands for Laughing Out Loud. The ;-) is an emoji and means a winking face.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>&lt;3 is a heart if you look at it from the side.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Glad to see the emailing seems to go well! Hope my guide has been helpful. Please let me know because I'd like to implement a Muggle computer course at the Ministry!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Hermione</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>re: re: Well, I hope you're happy</b></p><p>
  <em>Potter,</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>I’ve spoken to Granger (much against my will, thank you, but you gave me no choice) and decided that I do not tolerate the strange street language you are using. Don’t </em> <b> <em>ever </em> </b> <em>so-called LOL in my presence ever again. It's infuriating. You sound like a girl, by the way. I suppose the heart you have sent me is passable though. As I’ve said before, I’m not a monster.</em></p><p><em>Not that you asked, but Mother</em> <strike><em> forced</em></strike> <em> invited me to dinner at the Manor. I’ll be suffering through two hours of Lucius on Friday. Midnight coughed up a hairball and Zabini is coming to tea this afternoon.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I still hate you. But I will accept your Christmas gift.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>D.M</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>re: re: re: Well, I hope you’re happy</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Hey Draco,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Lol, I won’t. ;-)</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Aww, wish I could go with you to the Manor. I’d love to show your Dad how great we are together. I love it when you pretend to hate me. :-P</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I miss you so much. Say hello to Zabini, or no, please don’t. I don’t really care.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Harry</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>re: re: re: re: Well, I hope you're happy</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>And I love when you think I’m pretending. So charming, Potter. I am ignoring your ridiculous antics for now. Consider yourself hexed when you come back. I could have told you about how the dinner went, but you don’t deserve that now.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I did not say hello to Zabini. If I did, I'm certain he'd think you'd hit your head or been Imperiused. In any case, we had a pleasant enough time together, though he was sceptical towards the computer.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Efghjyiyilmnfd, that was Dante stepping over the keyboard. I suppose he says hello, though. You don’t deserve it, but you’re welcome.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>D.M</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From:</b> hermione_granger79(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject:</b> <b> Muggle Computer Course</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dear Malfoy,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Can you please get back to me about the guide I made you? Do you think it’ll work for the witches and wizards at the Ministry? Was it easy to understand? I can’t trust Ron on this, hence why I’m asking you.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Please let me know.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Hermione</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From:</b> chudleycannonsfan(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject:</b> <b> Thinking about you ;-)</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Hey sweetheart,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I'm alone at the shop. George is away doing some shit; I dunno. Anyway, I can't wait until tonight. George ordered new things for the adult section, and we received them today. Been stocking up the shelves all morning in time for Christmas. They look pretty exciting, to be honest, andI can't wait to try some with you. ;-) I'll bring a few home.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Love you so much, my little sex goddess. &lt;3</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Your Ronnie</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>chudleycannonsfan(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject:</b> <b> re: Thinking about you ;-)</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>For Salazar’s sake Weaselbee,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The inner images that inevitably popped up at your words almost made me choke on my morning tea. I do not know what kind of potions you've been sniffing, nor do I wish to know. But you can bet your Gryffindor arse that I won't ever sleep with you. I am certainly not your sex 'goddess' either (first off, the correct word you're looking for is 'god' and secondly, I do admit I am rather attractive, and according to Potter I am more than satisfactory between the sheets, but that's beside the point and none of your concern).</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>And by the way, Ronnie??</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Get a grip on yourself, Weasley.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>D.M</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From:</b> chudleycannonsfan(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject:</b> <b> re: re: Thinking about you ;-)</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh, bloody hell!! Fuck me!!</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>No, don’t do that. I don’t mean that literally; I just exclaimed frustration. </em> <b> <em>NOTHING ELSE! I REPEAT: NOTHING ELSE!</em> </b></p><p> </p><p><em>I can’t believe I sent that to </em> <b> <em>YOU!</em> </b> <em> I didn’t even! How! I don’t know how your address ended up in my! Oh, I bet it’s Hermione!! She must’ve added you to my contacts! Oh, sweet Merlin’s arse…!!!</em></p><p> </p><p><em>I am sorry, just delete it or something. Forget I said anything. That was meant for Hermione: </em> <b> <em>NO ONE</em> </b> <em> ELSE!</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I’m such an idiot!!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Ron</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>chudleycannonsfan(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject:</b> <b> re: re: re: Thinking about you ;-)</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I’m glad we can agree on something. I believe that’s a first. And yes, I know that was supposed to go to Granger; I am not stupid, you know. Unlike some of us. I was just making a joke. Fun, isn’t it?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>D.M</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>re: re: re: re: re: Well, I hope you’re happy</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Potter, Potter, Potter, Potter, Potterrrrrrrrr…..</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Listen.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I've been wine-ing again. Meaning I've been drinking a rather large bottle of RED WINE! Bet you're really jealous, aren't you??!!! Of course you are! The bottle cost 9556566485760 galleons. Yeah. I'm rich. I can afford to treat myself.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>Especially when you are not around, and I get lonelyyyyyyyyy….HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME SLEEP ALL ALONE TONIGHT! HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME SLEEP ALONE </em> <b> <em>EVERY </em> </b> <em>NIGHT!</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I DON'T KNOW HOW TO STOP WRITING BIG LETTERRRRSSSS, BUT YOU ARE SO BLOODY SEXY, AND I LOVE YOUOUOUIUUU.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>YOUR POWERFUL DRAAAACO LUCIIIIIUS MALFOOOOOOOY</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>REMEMBER MY NAME! GET IT TATTOOED ON YOUR FUCKING ARSE. AND DON'T FORGET POWERFUL. IT'S VERY IMPORTANT!</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>PS. MY CATS SAY HELLO. </em> <b> <em>NOT!!!</em> </b></p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>re: re: re: re: re: re: Well, I hope you’re happy</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Hey my powerful, adorable Draco</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Go to bed. Please. Sleep. I’m begging you. Don’t forget the hangover potion tomorrow.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Love you,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Harry</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Well, I hope you’re happy</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>How dare you call me adorable?! As you can see, I put the tiny letters back again. Yay me. I am also drunk, and I shall remain drunk, and you can just shut the hell up and come home and take care of me alreeesaaaaadyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I shall remain up all night. In fact, I might never go to bed ever again. How about that, huh?</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Sincerely, Draco the almighty</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Well, I hope you’re happy</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Draco, you’re drunk. You need to sleep. I need to get up early tomorrow, talk to you then. &lt;3 &lt;3</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>And by the way, I love you so much. &lt;3 I'm so sorry for going on this mission and leaving you; I know you don't like to be alone. I'll see you on January 1st. You're doing so well! I love getting your emails!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Your lightning bolt always, Harry.</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Well, I hope you’re happy</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Potter,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>My brain hurts more than Weasley’s does when he actually tries to use it. I just want to die. I got a bit carried away with the red wine, I suppose. Curse hangovers.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Of course, I manage well without you; as if I need the "great" Harry Potter to survive! Thank you for your concern, but I am fine. I know you must miss me an awful lot, but me? I hardly notice that you are gone anymore.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>So… How is work?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>D.M</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Well, I hope you’re happy</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Potter,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Not that you will be home for it, but it's getting closer to Christmas. I bought your presents today. It was an awful lot of work, and I do not recommend going Christmas shopping so close to Christmas Eve. Terrible. I was nearly trampled to death by a rather aggressive lady pushing a huge trolley. For a brief moment, I almost thought it was Weasley's mother, but they are still poor, aren't they? So I bet she couldn't afford all of that, so it probably wasn't her.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I haven't heard from you since the night I got so drunk, and it's been a few days now.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>D.M</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Well, I hope you’re happy</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Potter,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Are you dead, or are you simply ignoring me? Because if you are, I just wanted to let you know that you are very rude. I just wanted to say that I decorated the apartment for Christmas. I also dressed the cats up as Santa and two deers and took neat photographs with the Muggle camera that you left here a while ago. Granger taught me how to attach an image to this digital parchment, so if you are nice, I might send you the photograph later on. If you reply, that is.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>D.M</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Well, I hope you’re happy</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Okay, I sent you the image anyway. I hope you bloody enjoy it because you don't deserve it. You refuse to answer my emails, and I do not know what the hell is wrong with you. Or if something has happened. Though I suppose somebody would notify me if something happened, won't they?</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Please answer me as soon as you can.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>D.M</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>From:</b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>To: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p><p> </p><p><b>Subject: </b> <b>re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Well, I hope you’re happy</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Salazar's favourite Basilisk on a fucking Firebolt, why are you ignoring me, Potter?!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You can't ignore me forever, you know. You were the one who wanted me to use this damn Muggle device, and this is how you repay me?! Are you sitting behind that stupid screen laughing right now?! Or are you DEAD?!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>How dare you!!!!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Christmas is in three days if you care to know. You obviously know; you've got a calendar, haven't you?! Idiot!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fucking reply, you bastard!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Draco Malfoy</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Chapter four</strong>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Weasley, I need your help.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco squeezed his eyes shut. No, he couldn’t do it. It was embarrassing; too bloody desperate. Just the <em>thought</em> of asking Ronald Weasley for help was embarrassing, and he was sure even the reflection in the mirror laughed at him or at least thought he was mental. Draco had been practising different ways to<em> just say it </em>for twenty minutes, coming to the same conclusion every time: it was impossible. Plus, asking for help was far, far below Malfoy standards. Malfoys don't ask for help, and they don't beg, and they <em>certainly don’t turn to poor, ill-dressed gingers when in doubt. </em>Ever.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco squeezed the edges of the bathroom sink and breathed out, a long deep breath. Well, what choice did he have, really? He might just <em>have </em>to do the impossible and break the sacred Malfoy code. Technically, he had already done that by being in a relationship with Potter anyway. Lucius couldn’t judge him more if he tried.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Even though Draco hated to admit it, this whole Muggle emailing thing had been… rather amusing. He could see why Muggles thought it was fun. He had become quite fond of it himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Okay, truth be told, he was, perhaps, addicted to it. There was a slight chance that might be the case.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And now he needed Weasley’s help.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well, not exactly help. Draco didn't want to call it help. Or think about it like that, for that matter. It was simply… Well, he didn't know.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He stared into the mirror in his bathroom and told himself—repeatedly—that he should stop overthinking this and just <em>do it.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>No time like the present.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Eighty-eight?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Weasley’s frown felt like an insult. Draco scowled at him, crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows like a challenge. <em>What of it?</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, Weasley, eighty-eight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Not that anyone’s counting. Besides you.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Weasley sat in <em>Draco’s</em> chair, in front of <em>Draco’s </em>computer. Ozzy was in his lap too, and Weasley hadn’t objected or pushed the cat away. That was surprising, actually, and Draco couldn’t help but wonder what Granger would do if she saw that. He knew very well that Weasley hadn’t been very fond of that giant ball of ginger fur--Harry had told him all the stories.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ozzy was curled into a little grey and white ball in Weasley’s lap, sleeping heavily while Weasley’s wide hand absentmindedly slowly stroked over the top of the cat’s head down to his back. It took all Draco’s might not to grimace at that. <em>Weasley’s large, sweaty hand on his cat. Ew. </em>He wanted to protest; it was <em>his </em>cat, after all. <em>His. Cat.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“In the past twenty-four hours?” Weasley’s eyes went from Draco to the screen back to Draco again.His frown slowly turned into an expression of amusement. “You’ve sent Harry eighty-eight emails since yesterday morning?” His eyes darted back to the computer again. “No, since last night…” he continued, squinting at the screen. “Twelve hours.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Perhaps,” Draco pursed his lips. “However, that’s not the point. Potter’s dead, that’s the point. That’s why you’re here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Weasley sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you, Malfoy, <em>Harry’s not dead.”</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>If anybody had been there when Ron Weasley arrived at Draco's apartment two hours ago, they would have been witnesses to a very panic-stricken Draco Malfoy who couldn't let go of the thought that Harry was dead. He was driving Ron slowly but surely insane. Not that Ron didn't understand why Draco reacted like this, but the truth was, the redhead was in a predicament of his own, and he couldn't tell Draco Malfoy that. So he needed to be very creative, but it wasn't easy with how dramatic Draco was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The former Slytherin glared at him, narrowing his eyes. “And how, Weasley, do you know that? What proof do you have?” When the redhead didn’t answer, Draco gave him a triumphant look. <em>Yes, exactly. You don’t know. That’s what I thought.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Weasley ran a hand through his hair. He thought for a moment, then said: “But you don’t know for sure that he <em>is </em>dead either.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If he wasn’t, he’d answer.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco hadn’t heard from Harry in several days. He didn’t like it one bit. Potter was the one who wanted to email him, why wasn’t he glued to his computer answering everything?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe because you never let him catch his breath,” Weasley suggested, scanning Draco’s inbox. “You’ve written a shit ton of emails, mate. I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever written this many in my entire life. I’m not even sure Hermione has, or we have combined. How many are they?” He tried counting them, but quickly gave up, noting that it was “bloody never-ending.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This wasn’t what Draco wanted to hear. He began feeling exasperated; Weasley was supposed to help and support him, not scold him! What on earth was so wrong with writing so much? Just because he’d written eighty-eight emails between last night and this morning, and three hundred the other day, didn’t mean that...Harry could have answered him <em>anytime!</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>No, no, Weasley’s not here for help and support, </em>Draco corrected himself. Weasley was here because… because…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Plus, Harry’s away because he’s <em>working, </em>you know,” Weasley continued in a ’you-know-this’-sort of voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Yes, yes, yes, Draco was well aware of that.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But he should at least answer one or three of my emails,” Draco said in a defensive tone. He let out a sigh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The whole reason (from Draco’s point of view) for why Ronald Weasley was in Draco’s apartment right now was because Draco—who definitely wasn’t desperate—needed him to solve the mystery of his boyfriend. Harry seemed to have disappeared from the surface of the earth. He had stopped replying to Draco’s emails after Draco had drunk-written Harry again, and the wizard couldn’t simply be angry because of <em>that, </em>could he? No, his Potter wasn’t like that. If he ever was, Draco would smack him. Probably.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Yes, he was working,</em> but he had been working when he'd replied too, and that had never been a problem. But now, it had been quiet for a while, for too many days for Draco's liking. Potter hadn't given him any reason as to why Draco's inbox was so empty either, and if he was busy, he should have let Draco know. That was only reasonable. That's what anybody with a brain would do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>So, the only logical reason why Harry had been so silent was that he was dead. There was really no other explanation. Well, except for going missing of course. Draco had a very vivid image in his head of Harry getting kidnapped and was locked away somewhere without any Internet connection or his stupid Muggle computer-device.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or he was dead—either one of those.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“I’m telling you, he’s not!” </em>Weasley said, doing nothing to hide the frustration and impatience rising in his voice. The tips of his ears were glowing red, a telltale sign that he'd just about had enough.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Then why doesn’t he answer!” </em>Draco demanded loudly, and Ozzy stirred in Weasley's lap.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The redhead muttered something under his breath that Draco couldn’t hear. Draco watched him, wondering to himself if Weasley knew more about this then he let on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, if he only knew...</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then Weasley asked: “Why am I here, Malfoy?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“To solve the mystery,” Draco answered simply, pressing his lips together. He still had his arms crossed over his chest as he started to pace back and forth across the dining room floor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But you’re <em>so</em> sure Harry’s dead,” Weasley said, leaning back in the chair. “So there’s really not any mystery to solve, is there?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well…” Draco had no answer to that. He really didn’t, because he couldn’t understand how Weasley wasn’t pacing back and forth with him, just as worried. <em>Some friend you are, </em>he thought bitterly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why can’t you just admit that you miss him, Malfoy?” Weasley then asked with a crooked smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Why on earth aren’t you panicking?! </em>Seriously. Draco would <b><em>really </em></b>like the answer to that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco gnawed on his bottom lip, trying not to think about Weasley’s infuriating eyes watching his every move.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He refused to answer that question. He didn’t <em>have to </em>answer that question.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Yes, </em>it was true, he hated being alone; he couldn’t deny that. He hated being without Harry. He’d thought it many times, but yes, he absolutely <em>hated </em>that Harry needed to go away for work. <em>Hated </em>that he would wake up alone on Christmas Day. <em>Hated everything about this in fact, </em>while they were on the subject. This was shit. Pure shit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Though Draco wasn’t about to confess all that to Weaselbee. At least not without Oblivating him after.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mother had sent Draco a letter, telling him that she and Lucius were all packed for France for the holidays and there was still time if Draco had changed his mind. Draco hadn’t. If he couldn’t be with Harry over the holidays, he would rather spend it alone with the cats. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better, he supposed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco had tried to find out what Zabini was doing on Christmas and Pansy. Turned out they were doing each other, so that was a new type of information that Draco didn’t really need. Apparently hanging out with Potter and—very reluctantly—Potter’s friends led to him falling out with his former Slytherin associations. Not entirely, because he was still seeing them from time to time and Blaise had been over at Draco’s for tea just recently, but he clearly wasn’t updated on everything they did anymore. He wrinkled his nose, some information he’d been glad of not knowing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"What am I doing here, Malfoy?" Weasley asked again after a few moments of silence. "Why did you send me emails, practically shouting for me to come?" He shook his head. "Blimey, this computer-thing has turned you mental…"</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Because of Potter!” Draco hissed, fighting hard to keep all his emotions contained, not let anything show. He stopped mid-pacing, shooting Weasley a poisonous glare. “<em>You’re </em>his best friend; I thought <em>you </em>might know <em>something </em>that I don't! And Granger would simply ask far too many questions, and I couldn't have that—" Draco started pacing again, wringing his hands nervously. "If you haven't figured it out yet, Weasley, <em>that is why </em>you are here! Merlin, how dense are you really?” The last part was said in a rather low voice, even though it shouldn’t be in a low voice, Weasley deserved to know just how incredibly daft he was…!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So yes, Potter was the main--only--reason he had asked Weasley to come. Alone too. He could never have Granger in his household; Draco thought she would have been too curious about why Draco was the way he was right now. Or say something reasonable that Draco wouldn't be able to hear right now--he was closer than he liked to admit to putting up missing posters on every available surface outside. Plus, he knew Potter was closer to Weaselbee anyway, even though Draco didn't like to think about it. Weasley made his head hurt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Weasley rolled his eyes at that; Draco fought the urge to hex him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Why wasn’t he worried? He should be worried.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s at work, probably busy raiding a cursed house or something. And besides, Malfoy, you’ve left him probably close to five hundred messages. Or more. Calm down.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Calm down?! How dare you, Weasley, he hasn't replied since… Since a few days! Something must have happened; he might be dead for Salazar's sake!" Draco threw up his hands in frustration.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>No, not might. He probably, most likely, was. Or something along those lines. Petrified--what could happen to an Auror? LOTS AND LOTS OF THINGS.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"How many times do I have to tell you? You would've heard something then," Ron continued, still sitting in Draco's chair and still stroking the peacefully sleeping Ozzy in his lap. "An Auror would've shown up here and told you the news. They know you two are together. You're listed as his next of kin for Merlin's sake."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco drew a breath, focusing on making it a calm one. His heart had begun to race with worry, and that wasn't good at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can’t watch this any longer,” Ron said after a few moments of silence. “You need something to calm yourself.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can’t believe you’re not worried,” Draco said, coming to a halt in front of the redhead. “You should be. <em>We </em>should worry together.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Great. Now he knows.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ron snorted. “Nah, wouldn’t do any good.” He got to his feet; Ozzy jumped gracefully off his lap. “Hermione’s working late today,” he said, stretching out his long body. “D’you have any Firewhiskey here? I reckon you need something to calm yourself. You’re all twitchy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco scowled. “I won’t drink with you, Weasley, if that’s what you’re saying.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Three hours later, Draco's head was swimming, and it was all thanks to the almost empty bottle of Ogden's standing on the table in Draco's dining room. In his mind, Draco wanted to be annoyed that Weasley hadn't listened to him and gone on a little walk inside Draco's apartment while Draco had walked behind him, scolding him the entire way. Though he had done nothing when Weasley eventually had found his liquor cabinet, taken out Draco's precious Firewhiskey and poured them a glass each.Draco had instead reluctantly accepted and then emptied his glass while throwing Ron defiant looks over the rim the entire time. Ron had glared back, insisting that it was the only way he could think of that would make Draco relax and stop to have random, annoying freak-outs, and claim that Harry was dead. Without using magic, that was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And Harry wasn’t dead, according to Weasley.He had said so repeatedly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco swirled his empty glass, smiling as he did so. His head felt like it was filled with cotton, and it was all kinds of great. He felt too fantastic to be annoyed with Weasley at the moment; it seemed like too much work to be angry anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He lifted his gaze to glance at Ron, who was sitting next to him, leaning back so heavily in his chair that he was almost lying down. He stared blankly at a spot on the wall, probably just as intoxicated.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Weasley?” He began before he realised he had opened his mouth. “A question.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?” Ron said, turning his eyes on him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Have you ever done stuff with Potter?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The question came out of nowhere, but it felt incredibly right to ask. Who knew? It was strange, and yet Draco <em>just had to.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Weasley blinked as if he didn’t quite understand what just had slipped out of Draco’s mouth. “Stuff? What do you mean stuff?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I mean exactly <em>that</em> Weasley,” Draco drawled, almost wincing at the drunkenness in his voice. “Have you and Potter ever… <em>touched each other’s wands, </em>so to speak?<em>”</em> He emphasised the question by pointing in the air.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Weasley blinked again and was silent for an uncomfortably long amount of time, before he, without warning, convulsed with laughter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What the hell’s wrong with you?!” He asked, his whole body quivering as he struggled to breathe. “No, we have not,” he said, air quoting, “touched each other’s wands as you said, what the hell kind of question is that?!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco shrugged. “I’m drunk. You’re drunk. It seems like an appropriate time to ask each other questions like this. But very well then. Do you have any idea why he won’t respond to my messages then?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Weasley's laugh faded out, and he shook his head. He wiped tears from his eyes. "No, I'm telling you. I don't. He's working. That's all I know."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco smashed his head against the surface of the table and groaned. He suddenly felt utterly defeated. “Why are you even here then, Weasley?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I dunno! How many times should I have to tell you?!” Ron said, sounding helpless. “You wanted me to come; you said you needed my help. I thought it had something to do with the computer and I didn’t get why you didn’t ask Hermione; by the way, she told me to ask you about—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The computer course, yes,” Draco finished for him, not bothering to look up. “And I told you, I chose to not ask Granger because I didn’t want her to go on any rants or ask any stupid questions—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hermione wouldn’t ask stupid questions,” Ron said defensively. “She would probably just tell you to calm down and be logical about it; no different than I am now, really, I suppose. Look, calm down, Draco. That’s all I can say.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco's head shot up. He sat up straight, suddenly narrowing his eyes at Weasley. He might be drunk, but something about this wasn't right, and he had been too panic-stricken to realise it before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You <em>know</em> something,” he said, putting both hands on the table and leaning forward, so they almost were uncomfortably close. Ron wrinkled his nose at Draco’s Firewhiskey-breath, but he remained still on his chair, not flinching. “You’re not worried because you know something, don’t you Weasley?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“About what?” Weasley asked, narrowing his eyes too. Though the blush slowly forming on his cheeks and neck told Draco that he might be onto something.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“About Potter,” Draco continued, almost smugly because he’d been right. “Tell me, Weasley, what the hell is going on?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ron sucked in a breath. "Nothing," he said after a moment of silence, voice a bit uneven. "Harry's working, and that's all you need to know. If something bad had happened, you would have been told; you just have to trust me on this. Stop worrying and stop asking."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s a lot of words for you to say, isn’t it, Weasley?” Draco arched an eyebrow and pulled back to sit down on his chair again. He folded his arms over his chest. All of this was rather suspicious and he sure as hell wanted to know why. It wasn’t normal for Weasley to <b>not</b> react that Harry seemed to have gone missing. <em>Yes, he worked, </em>but he had answered all of Draco’s emails up until this point.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Weasley sighed and stared at him with an expression that said: <em>please, let this go, Malfoy. I’m begging you.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ha, joke’s on Weasley because Draco <em>never </em>let things go. And he might be drunk, but he was going to pester Weasley until the end of time until he got the response he wanted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Why was it so hard for Weasley to understand that Draco only wanted to know why his boyfriend ignored him? Especially this close to the holidays! Christmas was bloody supposed to be the merriest time of the year!</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Hey, wanna do something fun?" Ron suddenly asked out of the blue before Draco could open his mouth to object. It had got dark outside, and inside Draco's dining room, the bright Christmas lights from the tree glowed red and green, casting a horrible glow to Ron's infuriatingly orange hair.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, but I’ve got a feeling you’re about to suggest something anyway,” Draco said with a sigh. Weasley nodded to confirm that Draco’s been right, and he inwardly groaned in frustration. <em>Why was Weasley even here? </em>Then he remembered that he had summoned him, and that was just all sorts of wrong.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We should drunk email people,” Ron said, nodding eagerly. “It’s great; we should.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco cocked his head to the side, about to say that Weasley had something loose in his brain. But actually… <em>That might not be such a bad idea, after all.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Only if we send some emails to Potter; I'm not done expressing my frustration with him," he said, and Weasley nodded again as if to agree.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, sure, come on. Let’s get some more Firewhiskey and then we can send some more emails. To Harry, <em>everyone. </em>How ’bout that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Hm, </em>Draco thought as Weasley led the way to the liquor cabinet again. Weasley might not be half-bad if he really thought about it. This could be fun. Or maybe it was just his drunken mind talking. It most likely was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Okay, <em>it definitely was,</em> he decided as he accepted another glass filled to the brim with Firewhiskey from Ron and took a long sip.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But if Harry refused to speak to him and if nothing was dangerous as Weasley kept saying it wasn’t, Draco was at least going to give Potter a hard time about ignoring him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco Lucius Malfoy should never be ignored. <em>Ever.</em></p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Chapter five</b>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>To: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Subject:</b>
  <b> You’re no fun</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Potter,</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Weasley and I have decided that we hate you. That’s right. We both agreed on that. You such hippogriff ass. Fgohthpthjrmg,blhklhfjfjglr</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>That was Ozzy sending a message.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Yours truly,</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Draco and Weaselbee</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Ps. We love you forever/Weaselbee</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>To: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Subject:</b>
  <b> For fuck’s sake, are you dead?</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Answer me this, Potter, as your boyfriend I have the right to know. Are you or are you not?! Dead, that is. If you are silent, I’ll take it as a yes.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>D</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>To: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Subject:</b>
  <b> re: For fuck’s sake, are you dead?</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Harry, mate, Draco’s in the bathroom.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>I’m sorry for the random messages. /Ron</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>From: </b>malfoycantmuggle(at)maildotcom</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>To: </b>lightingbolt80(at)maildotcom</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Subject:</b>
  <b> re: re: For fuck’s sake, are you dead?</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Ugh, I knew Weasley would chicken out. I’m not sorry at all.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Draco L Malfoy</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>***</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ron Weasley lay sprawled out on Draco's sofa, snoring heavily in his slumber. Ozzy had curled up close, sleeping with his head tucked under Ron's chin. Midnight lay on his stomach while Dante was nowhere to be seen. Cats and a sleeping Ron was the type of disgustingly adorable image that would have had Hermione Granger's heart beating extra fast, and Draco would have scowled and sent Weasley home—had he seen it. It just so happens that he hadn't, <em>yet. </em>He was loosely aware that the redhead had slept over at all and would most likely spend the following weeks uncomfortably squeezing his eyes shut every time he—or someone else—remembered that Draco had been hanging out with Weasley when Harry was away. <em>Willingly.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>And that he, towards the end of the day, actually had <em>enjoyed </em>it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As much as Draco hated to admit it, perhaps Weaselbee wasn’t so bad after all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But that was a question Draco Lucius Malfoy didn’t want to think about right now. He didn’t think at all for the time being actually, as he too, was in deep slumber. His head pounded, but he wasn’t aware of that as he lay with his back against his closed bedroom door, the covers pulled up all the way to his ears. He was still in the clothes he had worn the day before: a plain white shirt and black, well-fitted trousers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco was in such deep sleep that he didn't wake up when the door to his bedroom was opened slowly, and somebody entered, walking soundlessly across the carpeted floor. There was a gentle creak as the very somebody climbed in the bed and lay down next to him. The somebody lay there silent and still for a few seconds before an arm slowly curled around Draco's waist beneath the covers. Then the very somebody proceeded to edge even closer to the sleeping form of Draco Malfoy, nuzzling the nape of Draco's neck, inhaling his scent. It smelt a bit like lemon and remnants of alcohol from the previous night. Lips pressed against soft, pale and sleep-warm skin, moving rather boldly to continue their quest of kissing the side of Draco's neck, the outer shell of his ear, sliding over his jawline to eventually reach his mouth, where they gently pressed a kiss to Draco's always perfect, soft lips. One kiss became two, <em>three</em>, not forcing his mouth open, just pressing lightly until Draco sighed in his sleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He began stirring, <em>what the hell was going on? </em>In the back of Draco’s hungover mind, he faintly recalled that Weasley had slept over; Draco had left him on the sofa the night before and… <em>The giant idiot, what did he think he was trying to do?!</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco pushed him before opening his eyes, shooting up from the bed like a cannonball at the same time Weasley fell to the floor with an ungraceful thump. Draco seized his wand on the nightstand faster than the speed of light, fully prepared to hex Ron with <em>at least </em>three types of different nasty hexes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>How dare he?!</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Except that the person Draco furiously held at wand point wasn’t Weasley. At all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And when Draco saw who it was, he flew over them faster than his mind could take in the situation, tossing his wand aside in the fall. Anger surged through his body, eyes unseeing as he slapped his target over and over in the face shouting on top of his lungs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“HOW. DARE. YOU! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco might be skinny, but he wasn’t as weak as people liked to believe. He had muscles; he had played Quidditch for Salazar’s sake. <em>For several years. </em>He was strong.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Unfortunately, Potter had played Quidditch too, and he was just as strong; maybe stronger. Shouting to Draco to calm down, he pushed him away until they were both lying on the floor, panting heavily and far from the bed, as they had rolled across the room in the ferocious match that had just taken place.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry held Draco's wrists in a tight grip to prevent him from being hit. Draco struggled, eyes shooting daggers at Harry the whole time. Harry tried to calm him, and when he finally lay still for more than a few seconds, cheeks flushed pink and eyes wild, Harry pulled Draco into a hug, holding him tight while stroking soothingly over his back and up through silky, light hair. Draco hated how he relaxed in Harry's arms; he was so weak. After one last feeble kick at Harry's leg, he finally stilled and accepted his fate in Harry's comforting embrace.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Sorry I scared you," Harry mumbled a bit sheepishly into Draco's hair. "Just wanted…just thought it would be a nice surprise to wake up to. In my defence, it looked a lot cuter in my head."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco narrowed his eyes at him. He was still fuming. “You violated me in my sleep, Potter, after ignoring me for days. How is that <em>cute?!” </em>He was in Harry's arms still, unwilling to move. It was far too comfortable and far too warm, despite everything. Draco thought he had perfected the art of self-control, but there were some things that his self-control didn't seem to work on at all. One of them spelt H-a-r-r-y P-o-t-t-e-r, and that was fucking infuriating. Draco wanted to hate himself, but he was far too tired for that right now. He yawned in Harry's face before resuming to stare angrily at him. <em>He deserved it.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What? Merlin, no, I didn’t! Didn’t mean to…to violate you, why’d you say that?!” Harry said, horrified, blushing an ugly shade of red. “Look, Draco, I can explain everything!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, I bet you could.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Later." Draco's head pounded, suddenly remembering how much he had been drinking with Weaselbee last night. He buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck and closed his eyes. He was still angry, and he would come up with revenge, but <em>Potter was home, no, </em>Potter was in his apartment, Draco corrected himself, and he wasn't supposed to be, and he had so many questions, but the room spun a little, and he was nauseous and—</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I brought you more hangover potion," Harry said, releasing his arms around Draco in favour of thrusting a small vial in his hand. They sat up, leaning against the wardrobes along the wall and Harry helped Draco unscrew the top of the vial. Draco drank the potion, gratefully, and leaned his head back against the wardrobe, allowing the potion to work its magic in his body. The pain and nausea intensified for a few seconds before vanishing completely, leaving Draco feeling light and soft, like he didn't weigh a single pound. Harry loosely held his hand, waiting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A few moments of stillness passed. Then, Draco lifted his head, heat returning in his stormy grey eyes as he demanded answers to a billion questions all at once.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>What the hell was Potter doing here?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Why?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Why didn’t Potter answer his emails?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Why did he say that he was going to be away for a month?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>What was he doing here?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Why did Potter ignore his emails?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"So explain," he said, voice low. Draco fought hard not to smile because, despite it all, he was <em>happy </em>that Harry was in his bedroom and not miles away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wanted to surprise you,” Harry said, grinning at him, unable to mask the happiness Draco himself hid so well.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But you were supposed to…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Be away for a month, yeah. And I will be. I need to go back, so I can't stay. But they allowed me to spend Christmas with you at least." Harry's gaze was soft on Draco, and he reached out to brush his fringe away from his eye. "I had some extra leave they allowed me to take so I could be with you. Nobody likes or wants to be alone on Christmas, Draco. Nobody should <em>ever </em>be either. I couldn't stand the thought of you being here alone, so I made some arrangements so I could come home. I mean to come here." He blushed. "To your place, I mean. You live here, not me." Harry faltered, and it was ridiculously cute. It was, despite it all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, you do spend an awful lot of time here,” Draco said, his mouth turning up at the corners. He turned his head, giving his unmade bed a look. “And you do sleep an awful lot in my bed.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I do,” Harry agreed quietly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"So maybe…" Draco's eyes wandered to the ceiling now. "Maybe you can spend your time here permanently…" he said, feeling a rush of nervousness in the pit of his stomach. He could feel Harry's body tense beside him, and he wondered if he should worry over saying too much. Draco had never considered sharing a household with anyone before, adding a mental note that he could always Obliviate Harry if he changed his mind. It must be the holidays and the fact that Harry came back that currently messed with his brain.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And the hangover. Definitely the hangover.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You want me to live here?” Harry asked, mouth hanging half-open in surprise. Draco turned his gaze back to him, watching pink cheeks, emerald eyes behind round spectacles, wild, untamed black hair and those stupid lips… They stared at each other and without answering, Draco leaned into Harry, cupping his cheek with his hand. Their noses brushed, Draco felt Harry’s breath against his mouth. Harry didn’t seem to care that he hadn’t brushed his teeth, and perhaps for the first time, Draco didn’t care either.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What if I do?” He whispered before finally claiming Harry’s lips in a soft kiss. It quickly became hungry and intense; it had been such a long time since their last one—possibly a million years. Harry softly gripped Draco’s arm, holding on while Draco passionately kissed him, enjoying Harry’s helpless little moan that he couldn’t stop from coming out as their tongues met. It appeared that Harry might have missed him too, just as much as Draco had missed him. The warm, fuzzy feeling of sheer joy twisted his stomach, making Draco almost desperate to spread wings and fly because he could barely contain himself when Harry ran a hand up his leg, up his thigh, reaching the buttons of his trousers, his fly—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“For Merlin’s sake, couldn’t you two have waited until I’ve gone home?!” A complaining voice called from the doorway. Draco reluctantly tore himself away from Harry, who quickly moved his hand away from Draco’s thigh. Draco lifted his head to glare at Weasley, who stood with sleep-tousled red hair at the threshold holding Ozzy in his arms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What on earth are you doing with my cat, Weasley? Put him down! Immediately.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"No, he likes me," Ron said before letting out a yawn. "Anyway, hey, Harry. Everything all right? <em>Merlin, </em>that sofa is uncomfortable. My back kills me.” He yawned again, putting down Ozzy on the floor anyway as Draco threw him another glare. He stroked the cat over its back before raising his arms above his head, stretching, then moving his hand to massage his lower back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yeah, thanks for coming over, Ron," Harry said, giving Weasley a smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Anytime, mate,” Ron said, smiling back. “Although I reckon I should be paid next time. Hanging out with Malfoy—hard work.” He shook his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco scowled. “What do you mean next time?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ron and Harry exchanged a look, and it was that sort of look that told they shared something Draco wasn’t a part of. Weasley blushed, unable to stop it and Harry shifted weirdly under Draco’s scrutinising gaze. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"So what on earth is going on?" He demanded when no one had said anything; clearly, neither Weasley nor Potter was going to willingly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Weasley has always been the easiest one to crack. Draco decided to ignore Harry, who opened and closed his mouth uselessly and went straight for Weasley instead. Draco's intense gaze could make anyone budge if he just stared at them long enough. His eyes were stormy grey. No one could resist that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As expected, Weasley looked rather uncomfortable, a blush slowly creeping up his cheeks. His eyes darted around the room before they momentarily dropped to the floor, watching Ozzy. Then his eyes met Draco’s. “Well—I might have sort of known that—<em>for Merlin’s sake, can you stop looking at me like that!—</em>Harry wanted to surprise you." Weasley sighed. "So, I helped. Kept you company while he prepared for coming home to you."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco blinked, trying to process what Weasley was saying. <em>But I emailed you, </em>he wanted to say or perhaps not, that didn’t sound right.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I would've come here anyway," Weasley hurriedly continued, now glancing at Harry, "But then you wrote me, and I sorta decided to play along with that." He shrugged. "I couldn't straight up tell you, could I? Harry would've murdered me for ruining the surprise."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hermione and me both,” Harry confirmed with a smile. Then he turned to Draco. “You emailed Ron? I’m impressed.” He looked like he wanted to say <em>I knew you could do it! </em>But thought the better of it, especially once he saw the look on Draco's face, his expression hard and cold. Draco regretted the small question he had uttered before, the one where he had asked Harry to move in. "You let me believe you were dead!" He said instead, eyes shooting daggers at Harry. Oh, the things he would do... "You troll! I was obviously very desperate!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, to be fair, <em>you </em>let <em>yourself </em>believe that Harry was,” Ron said before Potter could open his mouth. “I was trying to tell you that he wasn’t. Didn’t know what else to say. Except you know… calming you. Sorry if I was a bit blunt about it. Harry made me swear not to say anything.” He blushed a little.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Draco still didn't say anything--his lips pressed together-- and Harry didn't say anything, and it all became too quiet, Ron added, "Couldn't say much else to you except that he was working. Which he was. And… Now I wanna go home so I can sleep off last night properly and do what you'll soon do to each other with Hermione." He made a face, probably thinking about Granger, Draco decided, because it couldn't be about him and Harry naked. That wasn't something to pull a face like that at.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Thanks for everything Ron," Harry said, and Ron gave a small nod before he bent down to pet Ozzy one last time. The cat seemed to really enjoy his cuddles, which made Draco scowl. Why couldn't he leave his cat alone?! Harry and Draco were still on the floor, and it wasn't until they heard Ron leave that they looked at each other again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“I should kill you,” </em>Draco said, narrowing his eyes. But then his head leaned on Harry's shoulder, and he allowed himself a short rest. The potion might have got rid of the hangover, but he still felt tired. And Harry was warm and comfortable and too inviting not to right now. "Later. I hate you, you know. But you're warm, so I suppose you are forgiven." He snuggled even closer, getting himself comfortable despite being on the floor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Merry Christmas, Draco,” Harry said in a low voice, kissing the top of his head. He didn’t say anything, but he knew that Draco was happy that he was back home even if he had a hard time showing it. Well, a hard time showing it until Draco without warning lifted his head and clashed their lips together before taking Harry to his bed and showing him <em>exactly </em>how happy he was that Harry was home again so he wouldn’t have to spend Christmas all alone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wondered if there was a chance for him to stay home for New Year’s too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Fin</em>
</p>
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